"The man who works for the gold in the job rather than for the money in the pay envelope, is the fellow who gets on."
--Joseph French Johnson
There was something in the envelope? Oh, that.
"The child is in me still and sometimes not so still." - Fred Rogers
"The man who works for the gold in the job rather than for the money in the pay envelope, is the fellow who gets on."
--Joseph French Johnson
There was something in the envelope? Oh, that.
That said, it was a pleasant surprise when an old friend read a recent entry (on the Seattle Special Olympics) and sent off an e-mail thanking me. Blogging is kind of like putting a message in a bottle and it's a great feeling when you learn that sometimes the bottle lands near a thinker.
MTOD (my thought of the day):
Small Miracles.
Any day you wake up feeling rested is a good day. Any day you help sustain your family is a good day. Any day you go to work (or take a break from work) is a good day. Anyday you read, learn, think, write, plan, watch, listen, feel, move, stretch or appreciate is a good day. Any day you talk with a friend, or go for a swim, or get on your bike is a good day. Any day you share a meal with your family is a good day. Any day you spend a few one-on-one minutes with a loved one is a good day. Any day you play ball with the dog or get the cat to leap for his toy bird is a good day. Oh and any day more than a few of these things happen is great day.
Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch
who watches over you
make a little birdhouse in your soul
--They Might Be Giants (coming to Red Butte Garden, July 23)
What's new? Updates to TwoFatGuys.org
--Sidney J. Harris
On the other hand, there's a certain Price of Nice that's not such a good deal. The trick, as in so many things, is balance -- candor and kindness / honesty and tact / expression without explosion. Easy to say, aye?
"Our world hangs like a magnificent jewel in the vastness of space. Every one of us is a part of that jewel. A facet of that jewel. And in the perspective of infinity, our differences are infinitesimal. We are intimately related. May we never even pretend that we are not.
Have you heard my favorite story that came from the Seattle Special Olympics? Well, for the 100-yard dash there were nine contestants, all of them so-called physically or mentally disabled. All nine of them assembled at the starting line and at the sound of the gun, they took off.
But not long afterward one little boy stumbled and fell and hurt his knee and began to cry. The other eight children heard him crying; they slowed down, turned around and ran back to him. Every one of them ran back to him. One little girl with Down Syndrome bent down and kissed the boy and said, "This'll make it better." And the little boy got up and he the rest of the runners linked their arms together and joyfully walked to the finish line.
They all finished the race at the same time. And when they did, everyone in that stadium stood up and clapped and whistled and cheered for a long, long, time.
People who were there are still telling the story with great delight. And you know why. Because deep down, we know that what matters in this life is more than winning for ourselves. What really matters is helping others win too. Even if it means slowing down and changing our course now and then."
--excerpt from Fred Rogers' 2002 Commencement Address at Darthmouth College